


The Slut Beatle

by Llamaonfire



Category: The Beatles
Genre: 60's, Cigarettes, F/M, Heterosexuality, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Press and Tabloids, Sweet, beatle time, conforting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llamaonfire/pseuds/Llamaonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request: It's around 1964/1965 and the reporters begin going hot and heavy on Paul for not marrying Jane. They begin saying that he is just like every other man and that his cuteness is just a façade. Getting to the point of calling him a slut. He stays strong be breaks down one night at their hotel when he thought he was alone. John was there. John comforts him.<br/>Rating: PG-13<br/>Time line: Around 1964/65<br/>Pairing: Mclennon</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Slut Beatle

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr post:  
> Make sure to tell me what you think! I love critics and suggestions!

"Are you taking your time?"

"Is she not enough?"

"Is there someone else?"

“Does Paul McCartney ever actually want to get married?”

“Is being the cute beatles really who he is? or is just to attract the fans?”

"Is he really all the sweet and loving or just another _man_?"

The questions piled up by the second, suffocating Paul with every question mark. He had been dating Jane for about two years now, but only god knew how they managed to last so long.

He did think she was a nice lady, smart, good looking and the sex was brilliant, but they were almost polar opposites and in the worst ways possible.

Jane was an actress from the porch circles of uptown London. She longed for a sophisticated life with a side of caviar and French wine, while Paul was a rock star from the oily docks of stinkin' ol liddypool. He longed for fame, fun and family, only caring about happiness. All of this was aggravated by their one common trades, their ego and pride.   

All the questions flew around him, the whole world questioning him, confusing him and suffocating him in a tornado of inquires. Lights flashing, silhouettes shoving microphones in his face as the questions drowned him.  'She is such a nice girl. She is so sexy. Why don't you wanna marry her? Are you cheating? Is she not enough for _you_? Are you a homosexual?...'

He had been holding up, keeping his façade, his smile, but like an injure or an aching limb the more you go at it and but the injure over stress the worst it gets, till there's a point that you just can't hold the pain in any more.

"Shut up! I can't fucking take it!" He exploded.

In a flash he was back in reality, back with Freda at another hotel in another sightless city of screaming birds and pushing policemen. The papers that before sat on his lap were now splattered on the ground, as he stood confused in the middle of the room. "Are you alright Paul?" Said Freda from the desk in the corner.

He softly pressed on his temples with his thumb and finger, frowning as he collected the fallen papers, he mumbled. "Just need some air."

Walking out of the room, he slowly made his way down the hall, faster than a cannonball, finally he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the chilling air of wintery London. The small patio felt a million times bigger than his previous location, almost letting him feel free, almost. Ignoring the cold he took out a ciggie, shakily trying to light it, but before he could a voice came from behind:  "have a spare?"

He jumped slightly, when he turned around he was met by a mischievous smile. "What's a pretty face like you doing out here in the cold, all alone? Looking to get mugged?"

"Always." Paul joked with a dry chuckle as he finished lighting the smoke, handing it to John after he sucked a big drag. John looked at him, examining him. There was something off with him, John couldn't put his finger on it, but it was there. He curled himself around Paul with a grin, but soon he was pushed off. "What's wrong?" He controlled his anger due the rejection, keeping a calmish tone. His face tensed, not getting any response, till he saw Paul sigh, trembling slightly. "Paulie?" John reached towards the man on the edge of the small patio, but again he was pushed away. "I just... Need to breath John."

John walked next to him, softly stroking his cheek as he clicked his tongue. "Now, I'm not stopping you breathing, am I?"

"No" he said quietly, moving softly again John's sweet touch.

They stayed quiet for a bit, both looking at the street below; a secondary one, quiet and rather charming actually. A small sigh suddenly emerged through the thin air, echoing a bit till the emissary emitted another noise. "I... Fuck... The press just hasn't lid up, they all seem to have their knickers in a bunch about me and Jane! They keep going at me like I’m some kind of predator to woman."he spoke angrily, in a hurt tone as he threw the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it. 

He took a deep breath, looking down at a stray dog down in the street below. He envied him, so free, no exceptions, no people to let down.

"Lucky bitch isn't she?"

"Pardon!" Paul was taken aback. John just laughed and creeping behind Paul he pointed at the stray dog. "That bitch, son."

Paul chuckled embarrassed. As he prepared to speak when John's arms circled around him interrupting his thoughts. "Not that the other ain't lucky."

Paul could feel the proud grin from his mate on his cheek. "She's not a bitch, I'm just a cunt."

"Or maybe you're the bitch and she's the cunt?" The joke remark made Paul open his mouth, trying to argue, but John was quick on his feet. "Or maybe neither of you are a bitch or a cunt. Maybe both of you have just been played by the modern standards." This always happened. John rarely made any sense, but, nevertheless, he was always right.

Paul turned around, just looking at John for a bit. His eyes bared no judgement or any kind of negativity, actually there was a silver spark of pure curiosity within the sea of green that lived within them. "How do you do this?" His lips curled.

John grinned back with pride and with a chuckle he responded. "Do what?"

Paul shook his head slowly as he kept his gaze. His body slowly grew numb to his surrounding, the cold fading into warmth as the hazel of John's eyes filled his mind.

"What?" John chuckled, keeping his gaze.

"You." Paul responded trying to hold back a smile.

"Oh god he's delirious." John chuckled hugging Paul in a dramatic way. "Poor little baby faced Paulie!"

Paul laughed in John's arm, trying to get himself away from the choking embrace. Soon, in the midst of all the giggles and laughter Paul freed himself. He smile at John at first, but soon he found himself remembering his current situation and, with curse under his breath he looked down. "I just..."

Not letting Paul drown himself in his own self pity, John quickly butted in. "Oh come off it, luv. Birds will come and will go, but I'll always be here."

"That a promise or a curse?" They stared seriously at each other for a few seconds and soon gave into their laughter. Bursting in delicious giggles John soon took Paul's hand and guiding him back inside he said with a malicious grin and wink. "Come on, let's go 'write'."


End file.
